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Sfstory Log 002

Appended 16:02:58 on 04/26/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    With an explosion of sulphorous vapor and red flames, Bubba once
again appeared in Central Park.  However this time, unlike the others,
everything seemed normal.  Small brownish-yellow clouds of pollution
drifted lazily overhead, and the gentle, soothing sound of rapes and
murders filtered through the burnt and valdalized trees surrounding
the knoll upon which Bubba was standing. At the sight of the two rotting
human carcasses lying on the ground, Bubba let out a deep sigh of
    "Home.", he said with a small smile playing about his lips.
    Remembering his obligation to the Devil, Bubba broke out of his
reverie and began to search the area for the folder.
    Within a few minuets, Bubba was sucessful, and he held the apple-
red folder in his hands.  He had found it next to the dead bodies, and
something about the decaying corpses tickled the back of his memory,
but he could not quite place it. Shrugging it off as the mild mental
illness that affects so many New Yorkers, Bubba started off down the
knoll towards the street, in search of his three assialants.
    After he had reached the bottom of the hill, the memory hit him in
the same way that trucks on back roads hit woodchucks.  He dropped the
folder and stood staring into space, unbeleiveing of what his mind
had recalled for him.  To verify the impossible rememberance, he rushed
up the hill and stared once more at the dead bodies.  Yes, the mangled
one to the right definately bore some resembalances to himself. The
eyes (or at least the remaining one) was the same color, and the
tennis shoes the corpses' feet were wearing were his brand...
    "Oh no.", said Bubba, "That's me!  But who's the other stiff?"
    Bubba scrutinized the second body. Big and Hispanic. That seemed
to fit the descriptions of all three of his assailants, so this could
be one of them, he thought.
    "Yo! Satan!", called Bubba.
    Silently, the Devil materialized out of the shadow cast by a large
    "What is it mortal? And be quick, I can't stay here for long.", said
the Devil impatiently.
    "Here's one of my attackers.", said Bubba triumphantly.
    "Very good, but where are the others and where is my folder?"
    "Your folder's right here..", said Bubba, slowly remembering that he
had dropped it at the bottom of the hill.  "Ahh.. One second.."  Bubba
ran down the hill, hoping that the folder had not been again stolen.
Whether Bubba was just naturally unlucky, or whether some super-natural
force was attempting to foil Bubba's attempts to save himself from
eternal punishment is a purely academic question, and what really
counts is that the folder, instead of lying in the mud where Bubba
had dropped it, was instead gone.
    "Whoops.", said Bubba.
    "Whoops indeed.", said the Devil from behind Bubba. Satan pointed a
long finger at Bubba, and in a flash Central Park dissappeared and Bubba
was in Hell. The Devil was standing in front of him, scowling.
    "Mortal," he said," you have disasapointed me one too many times.
For this last inexcusable blunder, you shall pay. You are sentenced to
susbsist on nothing but Diet Pepsi and Downeast Dip Potatoe Chips for
999 years, whereupon you shall again re-enter my services as lackey.
Hopefully, you will have learned your lesson by then. So, until 2986,
adieu, my foolish slave." With this, the Devil dissappeared, and a
a bag of Humpty Dumpty Potatoe Chips, and six-pack of Diet Pepsi
materialized in his stead. However, before Bubba could start his 999
year long meal, a freak rip in the space-time continium appeared, and
he was replaced by three quarters of a ton of elephant dung and thrown
into nether-space.
    As quickly as the rip appeared, it disappeared.

What will happen to Bubba?
What will happen to the elephant dung?
What will happen to the chips and soda?
What will happen if I press this butt

***** Entry appended 16:02 on Sun, 04/26/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 019 *****
Appended 01:59:05 on 04/30/87 by  Carlo N. Samson:

Time once again for another exciting episode of SFSTORY CSNOTICE!!!!!


Meanwhile in another part of the universe...

    The Challenger II cruised silently through space as Linda and
Natchwald congratulated the Captain on his brilliant defeat of the
space vampires. Breaking out a bottle of Altarian Amoeba Juice, they
celebrated their narrow escape from a most unpleasant death. Their
merriment was cut short, however, as the red-alert klaxon sounded.
    "Bloody space, what now?" groused Natchwald. "Galactic Zombies?"
    Linda studied the telemetry that streamed across her monitor.
"I'm picking up a large volume of q-ray particles in sector four, mark
ten," she said.
     "Can you pinpoint the source?" asked Steve.
     Linda paused as she adjusted the controls. "Quadrant eight, grid
reference 100-237-769," she answered. "Abnormally high levels of all
other types of radiation, as well."
     "Wait a minute," said Steve as a memory stirred in the back of his
mind. "Isn't this exactly what we detected the last time we experienced
a rip in the fabric of space-time?"
    Natchwald blanched. "It sure is," he quaked.
    "Linda! Full retroflare on forward thrusters! All screens up! We're
not getting caught in this one!" said Steve, striding to the command con-
     But before Linda could make a move, or Steve could take one step,
or Natchwald could utter a cry of fear, the fabric of space-time ripped
apart with a mind-shattering force.


Oh no! Is this the end of our intrepid space explorers?? Stay tuned and
find out!!!!!!!

***** Entry appended 01:58 on Thu, 04/30/87 by U09862   at UICVM    # 020 *****
Appended 14:08:04 on 05/02/87 by  Jeff Smith:




    With an assortment of odd noises, the Challenger II and it's hapless
crew disappeared from the normal universe and appeared in nether-space.
The sleek grey starship bobbed about within the reaches of non-existance
for several nothingiths of a second, and then mysteriously reformed
itself into several tons of Spam.  However, before this bizarre, and
somewhat suspicious transformation, the entire crew, excepting the
ship's cat, which was turned into a lump of gristle, was thrown from
the depths of non-being, back into the universe we know and love.


    Captain Vogel blinked his eyes, and took in his new surroundings.
He was standing in the tall weeds of what appeared to be a grassy
plain.  There was a slight breeze in the air, and the tangy smell of
sea-salt tickled his nose.
    "Hmmn.. I suppose I could be worse off..", he said thoughtfully.
    He strolled toward the direction of the sound of breaking surf,
thinking about how nice a little swim would be about now. He passed
a small pool of clear water, reflecting the sky, and glanced into
it. To his horror he saw a huge, purple, slightly canine head peering
out of the water at him. He screamed. Instead a friendly explicative
reaching his ears, he instead heard a fierce, animal howl.  Scared
entirely from his wits, Captain Vogel broke out into a fast run toward
the beach.  His fright was such that he completely failed to hear the
sound of an onrushing motorcycle, and consequently completely failed
to avoid it.  With a sickening crunch of snapping bone and ripping
catriledge, Captain Vogel/Purple Monster flew over the beachside cliff
and was broken into little pieces by the sharp rocks below.


    Linda glanced about herself cautiously. It was dark. She blinked her
eyes, and it was still dark. She tried rubbing them, poking them and
pinching them, but all she succeed in doing is giving herself a headache.
    She looked about again. Still dark.
    "Shit.", she said into the darkness. The obscenity echoed around her
hollowly.  Suddenly, from the darkness came a chuckle. Not the friendly
chuckle of a beneficent friend, but the malign chuckle of a hundred
evil people, all out for blood, or some other, less desirable, body
fluid.  Linda screamed.
    "Ahhh!", she said.
    "Chuckle chuckle.", said the Dark.
    Linda, with a flash of insight that was totally uncharacteristic of
her, remembered that she had a flashlight on her utility belt.  She
reached down to her waist, but instead of feeling the cold, smooth,
plastic of her belt, she instead felt the slick softness of silk, and
the crunchy stiffness of sequins. She screamed again.
    "Ahhh!", she screamed once again.
    "Chuckle chuckle.", said the Dark menacingly.
    Linda, with a cautious hand, felt the rest of herself. Bare stomach.
Breasts covered. ( The term "covered" is used loosely here.  Her chest
was "covered" in the same way that used car dealers are "honest", and
politicians are "trustworthy." i.e. only enough to keep one out of jail.)
Face, fine. Hair, different style, but still there. She moved her hand
back down to her waist. Silk. Thighs, bare. Shit, thought Linda.
    Suddenly, with the brief crackle of static, a loudspeaker leapt to
life, startling Linda into rigidness.
    "Welcome, welcome,", said the voice,"to Ernie's Skin and Booze
Emporium."  Linda tried to make a noise, but the voice continued.
    "Tonight, we have a lovely surprise for you. A rare treat indeed.Yes,
we have brought you, all the way from the Orion Nebula, a genuine Animal-
-Woman from the Planet Nympho!"  The unseen audience cheered.
    "Not only will this exotic beauty dance nude for your twisted
enjoyment, but additionally, for a small fee, of course, you may have
sex with her afterwards!" The unseen, but definitely not unheard crowd
cheered deafeningly.
    Linda was breaking out in a cold sweat. Dancing nude? Having sex
with several hundred dirty old men? I'm in trouble, she thought.  In
another leap of logic that was totally out of character for her, Linda
decided that she must be on a stage of some kind, and all stages have
doors. So, I'll exit by the door!, she thought.
    Linda turned around and started walking away from the sounds of the
crowd yelling and the passing money to the MC.  She hit a wall. Feeling
around herself, her hands suddenly came across a doorknob. However,
turning it revealed to her that it was locked. She turned around and
again started to search. To her surprise, a crack of bright light had
appeared in front of her, and it was slowly widening.  She walked
towards it, and realized only too late, that it was the stage curtains
parting, revealing the upturned faces of several hundred perverted
humanoids, waiting for her to get naked.

What will happen to our brave heroine?
Will she indeed strip?
Will she sleep with the audience?
Who knows?

All these questions and more may or may not be answered in the next
action-packed edition of SFSTORY CSNOTICE!!

***** Entry appended 14:07 on Sat, 05/02/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 021 *****
Appended 10:56:14 on 05/09/87 by  Jeff Smith:


    Bubba looked about himself carefully. The last time this had
happened, he got into really deep shit. He was taking no chances
this time. Unfortunatly, Bubba could not see a thing. Not in the
sense that it was dark and he could not see, but in the sense that
he was physically unable to see.  However, this sensation was not
entirely uncomfortable, since it saved him from seeing the undoubtedly
horrid and increadably dangerous things hovering about him, just
waiting to swoop in for the kill.
    "Hello.", said a voice.
    Bubba tried to turn around, but found he could not. He tried to
    "Hello?", he said, or seemed to.
    "Hi. Is this your first time in Nether-Space?", asked the Voice.
    "In where?", asked Bubba.
    "Nether-space. Non-existance. Call it what you will.", replied the
    "No, but I've been to Cleveland.", said Bubba.
    "Close enough.", replied the Voice.

    Meanwhile, Linda decided that this was not her day. The curtain
was slowly and inexorable edging open, revealing more and more
panting perverts, lusting for her body.  She surveyed the crowd,
trying to size up her chances of escaping. She saw Craboids,
Insectoids, Cowoids, Beaveroids, Horseoids, and several Vegetableoids.
In fact, the only thing she didn't see was an exit.
    "Shit.", she said.
    From the loudspeakers on either side of the stage crackled some
more static.  Then, with the screech of a needle being inexpertly
placed on a record, loud rhythmic music pulsed out over the audience,
who writhed and moaned accordingly.  Then, with a blinding flash, a
a spotlight was turned on above her, and she was bathed in a pool of
white luminescence.  She heard from the audience several gutteral
sounds, of what she assumed to be pleasure.
    Linda, seeing no other way to stay alive, did her best to dance
without revealing to much of her already exposed body.  More sounds of
snorting and belching filled the auditorium and echoed around the stage.
    "Uh oh.", thought Linda,"they're getting restless."
    In order to quell the crowd's uneasiness, Linda decided to dance
a little faster. But as the rate of her wiggles increased, so did the
volume of he retching sounds from the crowd of perverts. With a whine,
the music  stopped, and so did Linda. The spotlight went out, and a
voice once again came from the loudspeakers.
    "Umm.. Gentlemen, I give you my most sincere apologies for the
uhh.. 'spectacle' that you have just witnessed. I assure you, the
*real* entertainment will be on in a moment.  I once again apologize
for the grotesque creature you were forced to view."
    "Grotesque creature?", screamed Linda,"What the hell do you mean,
'Grotesque creature'?"
    "I mean", said the voice," grotesque, in the sense that you are not
pleasant to behold."
    "Fuck off! I *am* good-looking!", she yelled.
    "Maybe to sex-starved space-sailors, coming back from thirty year
solo voyages, but not to us.", replied the voice. The crowd echoed his
    Linda was at a loss for words. She knew she was not Miss America,
but she had never had a shortage of men begging for her body. She was
getting angry.
    "Then what do you like?", screamed Linda in a rage, "Eggplants?
Sharks? Shaved cows?"
    The sound of lips being licked came from the speakers.
    "Do you have any?", asked the voice eagerly.
    "Oh, gross.", said Linda.
    The crowd, interested in the conversation between Linda and the
speakers until now, had become restless. They began chanting, in a
variety of voices, clucks, and grunts, "We want fish! We want fish!"
    Suddenly, from out of the faceless crowd, a ceramic mug flew at
Linda. She was to stunned to avoid it, and two seconds later she was
to stunned to avoid hitting the floor with a loud thump.

    Linda woke up in a small, dark, damp, smelly, and generally
nasty cubicle, lying on the floor.  She was no longer clad in the
shockingly revealing dancing costume, but instead in a heavy grey
jump-suit.  She decided that the best course of action was to get up
off the floor and have a look around.  However, once she rose to her
feet, she regretted her decision, and flopped back onto the floor, and
waited for her brain to stop orbiting her nose.
    After a few minuets, the dizziness passed and she was able to
look around herself without having her lunch decorate the walls.
However, once getting a glance at the total drabness of the room,
she arrived at the decision that throwing up in here might not be
so bad, in that it would add some color to the place.
    But before she could start her decoration scheme, a previously
unseen door opened up behind Linda. She turned around and stared into
the black triangle that the open door made against the greyish walls.
    "Come here.", boomed a voice from the vacant doorway.
    Linda, frightened to within an inch of soiling herself, slowly
backed away from the door.
    "COME HERE!", said the voice once again.
    Linda felt the cold wall of the rear of the room against her back,
and stopped crawling backwards, seeing how it would be pretty much
useless, seeing how the wall was there and everything.
    "Which word didn't you understand?", asked the voice.
    "Neither.", squeaked Linda.
    "Are you really this stupid, or are you just acting like it?"
    "Neither.", whimpered Linda, once again.
    "Is that the only word you can say?", asked the voice.
    "Umn.. No.", said Linda.
    "Then COME HERE!!", screamed the voice.
    Linda screamed.
    The voice screamed back.
    Linda screamed again.
    "Look," said the voice, "this is getting us nowhere. If you come
with me, I won't kill you. How about it?"
    Linda thought for a moment, and replied.
    "What the hell.", she said.

Where is Linda?
Where is Linda going?
Where is Bubba?
Who is the other voice in Nether-space?
Who knows?

These and other increadably penetrating question may or may not be
answered in the next edition of SFSTORY CSNOTICE, depending on the
author's whim.

***** Entry appended 10:56 on Sat, 05/09/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 022 *****
Appended 15:28:36 on 05/10/87 by  Jeff Smith:

The story of the film so far....
*swaying, romantic music*

    Doug and Bob are metropolitan policemen with a difference.  Doug
likes nothing more than slipping into little cocktail frocks, while Bob
beaufons his hair for a night on duty.  Still, as they aren't in this
film we won't give their last names....

The REAL story of the film so far....
*James Bond music*

    Lucky Reginald Vas Deferens is a nuclear scientist in love with Mafia
boss Enrico Marx, who is himself married to Conchito MacBeth, a lively
belly dancer at a Belgian disco, whose manager, burly Ivan Crabb, has a
naked daughter Janice, engaged to J.J. Spim, a New York private
detective, employed by elegant Laura Herron, to trace the missing million
-pound bidet that Hitler gave to Eva Brown as a barmitzva present during
a state visit to Krufts, and which remained hidden until a world cup
referee, Horse Jenkinson, was found hanged in the new Jersey tenament
with the plans of a Russian secret weapon partially tatooed on his elbow.
In Brisbon, the Brain brothers, Nickey and Vance, torture a Mayfair
chicologist, who reveals to Dora Brain in a tender and emotional death
scene, that his hair is not his own.  Meanwhile, the Kent touring
eleven, have trapped husky Matilda Tritt on a stickey near Hastings,
and she reveals all before enforcing the follow-on.  Peter Neiserwand
and Cyril Garfunkel arrive just in time with the Welsh police, and the
Harvey Orchestra, and proceed to sing a love song, which allows doctor
Indira MacNoughton just enough time to cross the Alps into Geneva,
where he meets Con Rapp, a Kung-fu fanatic and cat lover, who frivolously
shoots him, but not before introducing him to lively intelligant
Norwegian widow Lanny Krimpt, who shows him her inner thighs where he
finds the address of a good French restaurant, and unexpectedly meets
Gabriel Machismo, an ex-Korean plastic surgeon, whose frankly blond
assistand Sally Lesbitt is now the half-brother of a distand cousin
of Raef Born Ding-Ding-a-Dong, the Eurovision song, and owner of the
million-pound bidet given by Hitler to Eva Brown as a barmitzva
present during a state visit to Krufts, and which remained hidden, etc
etc etc....

This they now do.

    Meanwhile, Harold and Victor Medway the Third discover a newfound
love for each other in a flashback near Devon where they meet up with
Doug and Bob, the Metropolitan policemen, who surprisingly turn out to
be in this story after all, who kill everyone and live happily ever

***** Entry appended 15:28 on Sun, 05/10/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 023 *****
Appended 16:02:39 on 05/10/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    The *real* synopsis of SFSTORY so far:

Bubba - aka Bubba the Wanton and Invincable Death-Merchant from Hell. An
        innocent New Yorker (or at least as innocent as they come in
        that pit of preversion) who, due to stupidity within his control,
        became a slave to Satan (q.v.). However, he was later rescued
        from eternal punsishment by a freak rip in the Space-Time
        continium.  He is presently suspened in Nether-Space.

Ralph - aka The Giant Space Weasel from Anthrax V. A greatly
        misunderstood and much put-upon Weaseloid from the a distant
        planet. He, too, was tricked into Satan's service by G.X.P.
        Varnyloop LXVII (q.v.). Ralph is, in actuality, a very
        gentle creature, and quite an accomplished ukelele player
        in his own right. Whereabout presently unknown.

Satan - The Devil. You all know about him, from personal experience
        or other wise, so I need not elaborate on his character
        any further.  Nevertheless, let it be said that he is, to
        put it into polite terms, not a load of laughs.  He can be
        found in Hell, or at any local WICA meeting in the guise of
        a black goat.

The Doctor - Doctor Bing Von Spleen, the world's most famous and
        clearest-complexioned Spamological Engineer.  He invented
        the Automatic Beet Peeler and Sub-Atomic Re-integrator,
        which was eventually used against him by Radar (q.v.)
        to send him into Neter-Space.  He is now a biker on the
        planet Foonronger IV, where he recently killed Captain
        Steve Vogel (q.v.).

Linda - The buxom, slightly illiterate, computer specialist of the
        doomed Challanger II.  After this ill-fated ship met it's
        final end in the form of eight tons of Spam. She is
        presently working as a show-girl at Ernie's Skin and Booze
        Emporium on the plant Lascivious VI.

G.X.P.- The Name-Maker and associate of Satan who's full name reads,
        Gorginforx Xipnapoloop Pargarquackylywinks Varnyloop LXVII,
        giving all who know him a keen understanding of why he uses
        his initials.  Varnyloop is tall, blue, and likes to yodel in
        his spare time.  Some of his most famous reputaion-inflations
        are; The Giant Space Weasel of Anthrax V, Dorf the Hideous and
        Thouruoghly Evil Body-Basher or Fructose VII, Hoon the Amazing
        and Totally Fabulous Wonder-Worker of Beachcomber VIII, and
        Ronald Reagan the Great Communicator.  He is presently living
        on the planet Anthrax V.

Steve - Captain Steve Vogel, the neurotic and slightly effeminate
        captain of the ill-fated Challanger II.  Due to a slight
        mishap when he came out of nether-space, he was turned into
        a Seven-Legged Qwumby, run over by Doctor Von Spleen (q.v.)
        and turned into fish-food.

Radar - Radar Vogel, the schemeing nymphomaniac sister of the late
        Capatin Vogel, and Doctor Von Spleen's arch enemy. She
        attempted to kill him with his own invention, but failed,
        and merely threw him into Nether-Space.  She may be
        presently located on Earth and is free any night except
        Saturday, and cal be reached at (224)-412-8456.

Lucky - The Challanger II's ship cat. He is now a peice of gristle
        in the Spam-blob that used to be the Challanger.

I hope this has cleared things up for you.

***** Entry appended 16:02 on Sun, 05/10/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 024 *****
Appended 14:32:22 on 05/16/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    Doctor Von Spleen sped along the coastal road on his small electric
motor-bike.  The wind rushed in his face, and the mute roar of the
breaking surf filled his ears. He was enjoying himself. Even the faint
odor of blood and gore wafting up from the front wheel, and the
occasional blobs of raw flesh that flew up in his face from the spokes
did nothing to dampen his mood. Not much, anyway. Nevertheless, he sped
along, quite oblivious to his surroundings and his as yet undecided
    With a sound similar to that of a broom being stuck into a blender,
the motor-bike's engine stopped. Doctor Von Spleen slammed on the
brakes, and the inert bike skidded to a halt. He climed down from the
seat and examined the cause of the engine failure. Although he was not
a mechanic, Doctor Von Spleen, due to his keen eyesight and the
engineering courses he was forced to take in college, was able to
discern after only ten minutes of examination, that the engine was
    "Shit.", exclaimed Doctor Von Spleen.
    Where the engine was supposed to be was only a large hole, invaded
here and there by a broken pipe or a segment of frayed wire. With a
sigh of resignation, the Doctor removed the ABPSAR and the six-pack
of beer from the back of the bike, and continued on his way.
    After he rounded the corner, and had disappeared from sight,
a slight disturbance in the Space-Time continuum rippled back and
forth across the universe and finally coalesced around the abandoned
motor-bike. With a flash of bright light, the broken cycle was
replaced with a dead fish, and the bike was thrown fifty million
years into the past, and nine thousand light years south, where,
having appeared in another retinal-burning flash of luminescence,
it was instantly worshipped by the primitive tribesmen of the small
planet Koonfronger VI.  This object-of-worship's likeness was
reproduced in rock carvings all over the broad continent upon which
the tribesmen lived, and twenty million years later, these same
carvings were found by an eminent archaeologist, Zorf Quimblypoper.
After reporting these amazing findings to his long-time friend and
mentor Gork L. Spoonflomander, he was pretty much universally laughed
at, and thrown out of the Planetary Archaeological Guild, a highly
prestegious and rather outdated institution that had a strangle-hold
over the national political offices. Using his power, Gork
Spoonflomander caused the legislature to pass numerous laws written
expressly to persecute Zorf Quimblypoper. These laws passed unnoticed
by the public until two hundred years later, when an ambitious
young lawyer was reading thought the legislative records of two
centuries earlier, and noticed these regulations. Being a basically
gentle and humanitarian man, he was outraged by these unfair dictums,
and rallied a national campaign that eventually overthrew the
national government, and caused a major flare-up in political violence
all over the globe. This had the direct result of causing world-wide
anarchy, war, and starvation that reduced the once happy and green
planet to a uninhabited war-scarred globe, spinning though space,
spewing radioactivity and debris throughout the solar-system.

But I digress.

    In a nut-shell, the bike was gone. It's disappearance went entirely
unnoticed by Doctor Von Spleen, who, as already mentioned, was around
the corner, walking towards an unknown destination.
    Evening was approaching, and the Doctor was growing tired. He still
was not in sight of any village or city, so, deciding to risk the
possibility of being eaten by a roaming carnivore, bedded down for
the night in the tall, soft grass by the roadside. However, because
of all the disturbing, and highly unlikely events of the past 24 hours,
he was unable to fall asleep. Seening no other solution to this
dilemma, he drank the six-pack of beer.  The helped immensly, and
within minutes, he was fast asleep.

What will happen to Doctor Von Spleen?
Will a roaming carnivore eat him?
What will happen to the dead fish?
Will a roaming carnivore eat it?
Will a roaming carnivore eat the roaming carnivore that ate the fish?

The action packed answers to these action packed questions will be your
for the reading in the next action packed episode of the action packed

***** Entry appended 14:32 on Sat, 05/16/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 025 *****
Appended 16:21:30 on 05/16/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    It was high noon on Wendsday, and the computer center was desterted.
Only one person, a cobol programmer, was in the building. He was puzzling
over whether he had to hit return after each line, or merely press the
space bar until he went down to the next line. He opted for the latter,
and continued happily about his task.
    Overhead a strange craft was hovering.
    "Ten to one, I can melt that human's head off of his shoulders,
without heating his collar.", said one inhabitant of the craft.
    "You're on.", said another.
    A small hatch opened up from under the ship, and a stubby rod-like
appendage extended out of it.
    "Ten to one?", said the second voice.
    "Ten to one.", said the first voice.
    A flash of blinding blue light shot out of the rod hanging from under
the craft. The beam of light peirced the roof of the comuter center,
punched dime size holes in two typewriters and three desks, and hit the
cobol-programmers head.
    With a flash of light, the unlucky programmer's head disintegrated
into a cloud of vaporized grease, hair and flesh.  Unbeknowst, the
headless programmer kept on programming, and subsequentially he
received the best grade on a program of the semester.
    "Damn.", said the second voice.
    "Pay up.", said the first as the strange craft shot out of the
atmosphere toward some star somewhere.

    Meanwhile, back in Boston, Dan rose up from his bed of paper
towels and printouts, wiped the beer off of his glasses and stumbled
stumbled toward the bathroom.  He shaved off his beard stubble,
combed the aresol cheese from his hair and sprayed deoderant all
over his body.  Untinking, Dan put bryl-cream on his toothbrush
and brushed his teeth.  This served to awaken Dan sufficently to
enable him to retch into the toilet.  Dan walked out into his
living-room stepped over the passed-out CS students, the foreign
exchange students, and a pulsing lump of guacomole.  After a moment
of thought, Dan stomped the lump of green slime into the carpet.
After another moment of thought, Dan regreted this, because the
quacomole stuck between his toes.  In sudden flash of thought,
Dan soaked his foot in the punch bowl, until the avacado dip
    Dan entered the kitchen and searched the refrigerator.  Finding
only a bottle of olives, four tomatoes and a can of cheez-whiz.
In a burst of cooking inginuity, Dan threw all six things into the
microwave and set the timer for 30 minuets.
    Acting on an unknown impulse, perhaps the fact that the microwave
was sparking and hissing ominously, Dan exited the house and decided
to take a quick walk around the block. After Dan had rounded the corner,
the microwave's annoying buzz increased in volume.  With a dull thump,
the entire apartment was engulfed in a ball of flame and super-hot
    This explosion, beside having the obvious, and minor, effect of
setting the apartment building, and consequently the whole block, on
fire, also, due to the prescence of Cheez-whiz, an altogether amazing
and hideously powerful substance, second only to Spam in it's power,
ripped open a hole in the Space-Time continium.

               * Gargavix  Oolavant's Pocket Guide to *
               * the  Space-Time  continium says that *
               * Cheeze-whiz was first  discovered by *
               * the unlucky nomadic  tribemen of the *
               * planet  Woopamonger  III.  They  ran *
               * across it in it's  unrefined  state, *
               * during their yearly migration across *
               * the  great  plains  of  Blah.  After *
               * numerous highly unsucessful attempts *
               * at  smelting  it, in the  process of *
               * which large parts of the planet were *
               * destroyed  and  much  of  the native *
               * life was wiped out or mutated beyond *
               * recognition,  even by it's own kind, *
               * which  eventually  resulted in those *
               * species' extinctions, for the simple *
               * reason that it was almost impossible *
               * for a male of a species  to find  or *
               * recognize,  for   that   matter,   a *
               * female of it's  own  species or even *
               * it's  own  kingdom, and  vice versa. *
               * However,  hundereds   of  years  and *
               * millions  of lives later, Cheez-whiz *
               * was   finally   purified   into   an *
               * elemental state. To the great dismay *
               * of   the   many  scientists  who had *
               * participated  in   the  project,  no *
               * practical use was found for the  new *
               * material, and it's secret passed out *
               * of the  knowledge  of  the race.  It *
               * remained    unrediscovered  until  a *
               * brilliant young engineer working for *
               * Kraft      unearthed    it     while *
               * experimenting with ways of capturing *
               * neutrinos with tomato paste.         *

    The effect of this sudden gap in the fabric of the universe, was
firstly to siphon the entire burning apartment block across the galaxy
and onto the innocent dwellers of a small planet, killing them all,
partly from burns, but largely from surprise.  The secondary effect of
the suddend rend in the Cosmic material was to catapult every conscious
person within a twelve-mile radius into the nether-Space.  Not to make
the uncatapulted sleepers feel left out, the rip gave them each a large
unsightly wart on the tip of their nose.  Within the course of the
next year, there was a sudden drop in the birth rate of that community,
which sent statisticians into a frenzy of self-replicating curves and
non-sectarian distribution matrixes.


    Bubba sensed another presence nearby him. He did the Nether-space
equivalent of saying hello to this person.
    "Hi.", he said, "and welcome to non-existance."
    "Where am I?", asked Dan ina confused voice.
    "Non-space. Anti-existance. It's a real happening place.", replied
    "When do I go home?", asked Dan.
    "Dunno. This is my first time, too." Bubba thought a while. "Ask
Ralph, he'd know."
    "Ralph? Who's he?"
    "I don't know, but he seems to know his way around non-being
pretty well.", replied Bubba.
    "You called?", came a voice from Nowhere.
    "Yeah, Ralph, meet the newcomer.",said Bubba.
    "What's your name?", asked Ralph.
    "Dan.", stated Dan.
    "Dan. Nice name."
    "Thanks", said Dan, "When can I leave?"

When can Dan leave?
When can Ralph leave?
When can Bubba leave?
When can anyone leave?

This line intentionally left not-blank.

***** Entry appended 16:21 on Sat, 05/16/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 026 *****
Appended 11:11:50 on 05/19/87 by  :

    The Supreme Being looked down at the whole of creation, and did not like
what he saw. Those troublesome humans were messing with the forces of nature
again, and this time they were *really* screwing things up. The recent rips
in the fabric of space-time were threatening to undermine the very structure
of the entire universe.
    "Those humans," mused the Supreme Being, "are more trouble than they're
worth. I'm beginning to think I should never have created them. I should just
chuck them all into infinity and start over, but then everyone will know that
I made a mistake, but since I am the Supreme Being I cannot make mistakes, so
I'm left with no choice but to attempt repair."
    He sighed, then shouted, "Omegas! Attend me at once!"
    In an instant, a man in a white leather jacket, purple-tinted sunglasses,
and cobalt-blues jeans appeared in front of the Supreme Being.
    "THERE SHE WUZ--JUST A-WALKIN' DOWN THE STREET singin' doo wa diddie diddie
dum diddie doo...oh, hi there, your most Supremo Awesomeness. What can I do for
you today?" said the man known as Omegas.
    "You can start by addressing me with all the respcet due to the Creator of
the Universe, lest you wish to live forever in unendurable agony," rumbled the
Supreme Being.
    "Oh, well excuuuuuse me, O Great and Powerful and Supreme Maker Of All
Things. How may I, an insignificant speck of sentient consciousness,serve you?"
grovelled Omegas.
    "That's better. Anyway, those foolish humans are wreaking havoc with the
very fabric of existence. Go down there and stop them!"
    "At once, O Most Perfect and Wondrous Master of Creation. I'll get on it
right away. You want me to kill the person or persons responsible, or just
send them up to you?
     "Eliminate them," replied the Supreme Being.
    "Okay, no sweat, catch you later!" said Omegas as he vanished from sight.
He reappeared a microsecond later in the middle of a New York city park. His
leather jacket had been replaced with a green one with the words "SuprB Repair
Shop" written in white letters across the back. His eye caught a red object at
the bottom of a hill. He snapped his fingers, and the object appeared in his
hand. It was a red folder.
    After taking a few seconds to read the entire contents, he thought, "Why
would the devil go to so much trouble to keep anybody from reaching the planet
Arziquarzonis? There's nothing, absolutely nothing there. Unless..." He tucked
the folder inside his jacket and slipped on his sunglasses. "The Supreme Being
won't mind me taking a little look there, now would he? Of course not." With
a wave of his hand, Omegas vanished. A moment later, a man came running down
from the top of the opposite hill to the place where the folder once rested.

***** Entry appended 11:11 on Tue, 05/19/87 by U42701   at UICVM    # 027 *****
Appended 14:11:10 on 05/23/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    "When can I leave?", repeated Bubba.
    "Any time you want to.", replied Ralph.
    "What!?", screamed Bubba," you never said I could leave any time I
wanted to!"
    "You never asked.", he replied.
    "I don't know about you, but *I'm* leaving.", said Bubba.
    "You might not like where you end up..", said Ralph mysteriously.
    "It couldn't be any worse than here! Good bye! I'm off!!", concluded

    "Uhh.. How do I leave?", he asked after a moment's thought.
    "Through that green door over ther.", said Ralph, pointing to a the
aforementioned portal.
    Bubba looked, or did the Nether-existance equivalent of looked,
around himself, or the Nether-existance equivalent of himself, for the
Green Door. He found it with surprisingly little difficulty, which
caused him to wonder why he hadn't seen it before. Writing off the
experience to stupidity, he opened the door.
    "Good-bye, Ralph", he said as he stepped within the green door.
    "Good bye, Bubba.", said Ralph.
    "Slam.", said the door.
    "When can I leave?", said Dan.


    Bubba appeared. The mysterious green door from which he stepped
vanished into the oddly pungent fog surrounding him.  Bubba sniffed
the swirling vapors that obscured his view of the world around him.
The odor tickled his memory, but no definite sensory impression came
forward to call this smell it's own.  Bubba sighed a sigh of
resignation and looked around himself once more.
    There was not much to see.
    Grey vapors swirled around him in sinister and vaguely phalliic
patterns.  The grey earth upon which he stood defied description.
The closest that one could come to adequately describing the ground
was "grey". However, it went beyond grey, for in every grey that is
otherwise known in the universe, there a hint of something not-grey,
but here.. *This* was grey. Really grey.
    Bubba looked up from the ground and glanced above him towards
the sky. More mist.
    "Oh well.", sighed Bubba.
    He, seeing no other alternative, picked a random direction and
started to walk. Before he was able to walk more than five steps,
he found a wall. Imbeded into this vast silver wall was a single
door. Running at waist level across the door was a strip of red,
and printed onto this strip were the words "DANGER: DIET PEPSI
PROCESSING WITHIN." Bubba read this warning with growning puzzlement.
Deciding he had nothing to fear from Diet Pepsi, he turned the
door's doorknob, and stepped within.

             * Gargavix  Oolavant's  Pocket  Guide to *
             * the Space-Time Continiuum  states that *
             * Diet  Pepsi  is   another  one  of the *
             * Universe's  Great Culinary Jests. Also *
             * grouped  within  this   category  are, *
             * among   others,   Spam,    Cheez-Whiz, *
             * Moxie, and  Tab.  As  with  all  other *
             * nutritional  toxins included  in  this *
             * grouped, Diet  Pepsi is  classified by *
             * the    Interstellar    Committee    of *
             * Hazardous,   Dangerous,   Toxic,   and *
             * Otherwise  Really  Nasty  Items, as at *
             * least  a Class X organic and a Class V *
             * inorganic  poison.  Diet  Pepsi itself *
             * classes  as a  Class  XII  organic and *
             * Class  VIII  inorganic  poison.   This *
             * means  that,  in  addition  to tasting *
             * slightly worse than molecular acid, it *
             * is  deadly,  or at least  biologically *
             * inimical to all forms of life, except, *
             * of course, the Toxitrons of the planet *
             * Newark VII,  who  regard  it as a fine *
             * after-dinner liqueur. Additionally, it *
             * can  dissolve  up to seven  inches  of *
             * or three  millimeters  of  Neutronium. *
             * Despite its  obvious  hazards,  it  is *
             * still   drilled   for  on  the  planet *
             * Florndorfin  by the Humans of Sol III. *
             * Here it is found in large  underground *
             * pockets  called  "Sikspax", an obscure *
             * historical  reference to the method of *
             * carrying   toxins   used   on  ancient *
             * Earth.  The  Humans  have discovered a *
             * way to refine Diet  Pepsi  into a form *
             * usable  as a  high-grade  rocket  fuel *
             * Nevertheless, it  is nasty stuff to be *
             * avoided at all costs.                  *

    Instantly he was immersed in the clanging and gnashing of large
machinery. The sight that greeted his eyes was that of huge, pipe-
-covered machines, and his nose was filled with the sickly-sweet
odor of flat Diet Pepsi. Bubba started at the gigantic boilers and
massive piping systems that entwined about him. Upon the pipes were
written bits of information, such as "DEXTROSE REDUCER", "ENZYME
wandered amidst the huge machines and tubes, wondering why in hell
would somebody process Diet Pepsi. As if the stuff wasn't vile
enough already, he thought.
    Through the course of his wanderings though the purification
complex, Bubba gathered that whoever had built this place was,
for whatever twisted reason they had, trying to separate the syrupy
"Diet Pepsi Essence" from the water in the putrid drink. However,
despite all the obvious protective measures taken to insure that the
corrosive essence did not harm the machinery, it was clear that the
vile liquid was eating away at the pipes.
    Anxious to get out of this maze of pipes and tubing before something
burst and killed him, Bubba started looking for a door. Luckily,
this search was not in vain, and Bubba soon found the desired exit.
It was another small metal door with the words "CONTROL ROOM" written
on it. He opened the door and stepped in.
    Before Bubba stretched an immense room. It was roughly fifty feet
wide, but over one hundred feet long.  The entire right-hand wall
was covered with a vast bank of switches, buttons, monitor screens,
and blinking lights.  Two men, clad in bright blue uniforms, stood
over a insanely complex-looking panel about thirty feet down from
where Bubba was standing, and were having a heated discussion about
    "What's wrong with Pump 17?", asked one of the men.
    "Well, sir, it looks like that there has been a contamination of
of the filter screens in drilling station three.", said the second
    "Contamination? Of what?", demanded the first man.
    "I'm not sure, but I am running diagnostic program now, sir.",
replied the second man.
    Suddenly a large yellow light to the right of the men lit up, and
a loud honk echoed throughout the chamber.
    The second man looked at the screen and instantly a wave of
fear passed over his features.
    "What is it, Renoylds?", asked the first man.
    "The contamination in sation three has been determined to be..",
Renyolds paused.
    "What is it?", demanded the first man.
    "Tab, sir.", replied Renoylds gravely.
    "Tab?" The first man looked worried. "With calcium added?"
    "I'm afraid so, sir", said Renyolds.
    "Shut down all pumping immediatly!", ordered the first man,"Reverse
all pumps from number three to number twenty-four! Flush all auxiliary
systems with Cleaning Solvent.. now!"
    Renoylds reached over to a panel above his head and flicked a
series of switches, and the pressed a prominent red button.  Instantly,
the control room was bathed in a crimson light and a angry claxon began
    "Honk honk.", said the claxon.
    Bubba paniced. He knew that, although Diet Pepsi was bad, Tab was
worse, and with calcium added.. Well, there was no way of telling
what would happen then.  He decided to run for it.  He opened up the
small door through which he had entered, and dashed out of the control
room. The pipes and tubing surrounding him  were pulsing and groaning
under the stress of the back-washing.  Large pools of bubbling Tab
were sloshing  obscenely on the floor where pipes had burst or ruptured.
Bubba did not head the muted sounds of exploding pipes in the distance,
nor the unusually high-pitched hum of the machines around him, he had
only one want: to get the Hell out of here.  Unfortunatly, when he was
but within a Spam's throw away from the exit, a large duct exploded
above him, releasing a torrent of Diet Pepsi essence, Tab (with calcium)
and cleaning solvent.  But before Bubba could be engulfed in this flood
of biohazards, another of those oh-so-familiar rips in the space-time
continium sucked him from his certain doom and back into Nether-Space.
    "Not again!", said Bubba.
    "Welcome back.", said Ralph,"Did you have fun?"

Did Bubba have fun?
Did he have fun and not know it?
Did he not have fun and know it?
Who knows?

All the questions and more will still be left in the dark at the end of
the next edition of SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 14:10 on Sat, 05/23/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 028 *****
Appended 14:58:10 on 05/23/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    With a flash of bad special effects, Omegas appeared on the surface
of the planet Arziquarzonis.  All around him stretch a vast level
plain, drab beyond all possible imagination.
    "Woah.  Dullsville, Arizona, here I come.", said Omegas to himself
as he slipped on his sunglasses.  Stretching out on all sides of him
was flat, level, brown plains, interuppted randomly with a sparse,
weedy growth resembling a cross between mold and a feather duster. The
dry odor of millennia-old dust filled his nostrils.
    "Yuck, man.", deduced Omegas, "This has *got* to be one of the
dullest places in the Universe. Wow."

             * Gargavix  Oolavant's  Pocket Guide to *
             * the  Space-Time  Continuum  says that *
             * the planet Arziquarzonis is, in fact, *
             * the third  dullest place in the known *
             * Universe.  It is so dull that  Nature *
             * herself  got sick of the place before *
             * intelligent  life had  evolved, which *
             * is rather a  stroke of  luck, really, *
             * seeing that any  sentient inhabitants *
             * of   this   intensely   non-happening *
             * place  would, undoubtedly, be as dull *
             * as their surroundings.                *
             * The second dullest place in the known *
             * Universe is the Planet Uh in the Star *
             * Cluster   Voon.   It  is   so   mind- *
             * -witheringly  dull  that  the crew of *
             * the first scout  ship to  land  there *
             * was bored to  death in a record  0.09 *
             * seconds, and  the  cybernetic  ship's *
             * computer   broke   down  from  input- *
             * -deprivation  one  second later after *
             * having radioed out the  planet's  new *
             * name, "Uh".                           *
             * The most  boring  place in the  known *
             * Universe is, of course,  Orono on the *
             * planet Sol III.                       *

    Omegas knew what he was looking for, and so, within a few short
minutes, he found it.
    "Of course! How could I be so stupid! This, is what the Devil
was afraid of.. It's so.. so.. elementary!", he said as he picked
it up.  Unfortunatly, this was the last action Omegas was able to
complete, for, like all other life-forms, he was susceptible to acute
boredom, and while he had been roaming, the drab scenery had taken its
toll on his more-than-mortal brain.  With a soft thump, Omegas brain
seized up, and he quietly expired.

    He woke up a nothingith of a second later in the presence of the
Supreme Being.
    "You fool.", said The Supreme Being,"didn't you know you couldn't
handle the high levels of boredom on the planet Arziquarzonis?"
    "Hey, man. I'm immortal, why did I die?", Omegas asked irately.
    "You didn't die, your brain seized up, and your thoughts ceased
to flow.", responded the Supreme Being.
    "I died.", said Omegas.
    "That doesn't matter!", boomed the Supreme Being,"You still have
your mission to complete!"
    "I quit.", said Omegas,"I want a vacation."
    "I'll give you a vacation, a vacation in purgatory, if you don't
watch it!", said the SB.
    "Hey! Sorry! No offense, I was just joshin' you. Ya know?", responded
Omegas with a forced smile.
    "Good. Now, your mission requirements have been changed. I no longer
want you to eliminate the disrupters of the Universe, I want you to
being them to me. I may have a use for them.", said the Supreme Being.
    "No problem, dude.", said Omegas.
    "Good-bye.",said the Supreme-Being, and Omegas disappeared.


    Omegas reappeared in the same place where he had appeared earlier.
He was wearing the same outfit, however, instead of his topdeckers, he
was wearing sequined go-go boots.
    "I'll get you for this.", mumbled Omegas under his breath.  A
lightning bolt streaked down from a cloudless sky and evaporated a
large tree standing next to him.
    "Heh, just kidding", he said, looking at the sky apologetically.

Was Omegas just kidding?
Was that lightning bolt meant for that tree?
Was that lightning bolt meant for Omegas?

All these questions will be answered eventually, somewhere and somewhen,
but definitely not in the next edition of SFSTORY CSNOTICE.

***** Entry appended 14:58 on Sat, 05/23/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 029 *****
Appended 15:06:29 on 05/25/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    Doctor Von Spleen woke from his drunken stupor and staggered to
his feet.  His head throbbed like someone wearing heavy spiked boots
had stomped on his head.  His mouth tasted like something had done
something rude to something else and left whatever aids or substances
the first something used on the second something on his tongue.
    He searched in his pockets for anything to use to rid his head of
the throb or his mouth of the taste, but found only two bottle caps
and a booklet describing how you, too, can double your money in less
than thirty days by sending it to Goon Hagfrunt of Altair VII who
would invest it wisely for you. He tossed this pamphlet into the tall
grass, re-pocketed the bottle caps and set off once again down the
road with the ABPSAR under his arm, rubbing his sore head and
occasionally spitting into the weeds growing by the road.
    Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, an ear-shattering roar
filled the sky above him. Startled, Doctor Von Spleen leaped into the
tall grass to the side of the road and hid.  He looked up above
himself into the sky and say a long white vapor trail extending
down from the north almost to the zenith.  He noticed that the trail
was thicker at it's extending head and that the road was getting
    "Shit.", thought the Doctor, "It's gonna land."
    No sooner had the idea crossed the Doctor's mind than a large green
flying craft set down on the road a few hundred feet east of where the
Doctor was hiding. The Doctor slithered through the grass in order to
get a better view of the strange ship that had nearly caused him to
soil himself.
    It was a large green cigar-shaped vehicle, glowing slightly red at
the end farthest from the Doctor. It was hovering several feet above
the pavement on what the Doctor concluded could be a cushion of air,
or maybe some esoteric field generated from within the ship itself.
However, before the Doctor could scrutinize the supporting cushion,
it apparently gave out, sending the long craft crashing into the hard
road beneath it. A small plume of vapor escaped out of some unseen
vent in the craft and winged it's way toward heaven.
    After waiting a few moments to seen if anyone would disembark, the
intrepid Doctor got up from his hiding place and advanced toward the
now earth-bound craft.  But, no sooner had he arose from the damp grass,
that a hatchway appeared in the side of the craft, and began to extend
toward the ground.  The Doctor leaped back into the weeds, nearly
crushing in his skull on a nearby rock. Enough with this damn leaping,
thought the Doctor.
    The hatchway continued its descent, and eventually opened to reveal
a black rectangle in the side of the ship.  A figure then appeared within
this rectangle. It was roughly six feet tall and dressed in a shiny grey
jumpsuit of some kind.  It walked down the gangplank and began a survey
of his ship.  After a few moments, it seemed to find the trouble, and,
displaying its consummate engineering skill, gave the ship a swift kick.
However, this did not alleviate the problem, but merely caused a hitherto
unseen panel to fly open above the figure's head, and another, this time
larger, plume of vapor to be released by the craft.
    Vague sounds of cursing in an alien language reached the Doctor's
ears as the figure trooped back into the craft, shutting the gangplank
behind it.  After a few more minutes, the hatchway opened again, and
the figure came down the ramp carrying in each hand a small rectangular
can.  Giving the ship another kick, the swearing alien set off down
the road toward the Doctor, occasionally looking back at the ship,
spitting, and beginning a renewed bout of cursing.
    The now mumbling alien passed the Doctor and continued advancing
down the road in the direction in which the Doctor had previously been
heading.  The Doctor waited for the profane alien to pass out of sight
around a bend in the road before rising from his hiding place.  He
cautiously glanced around once more, and started walking toward the
abandoned spacecraft.
    Soon, the Doctor had come close enough the the ship to read the
previously unnoticed writing on its side.  It said, in large, bold
letters, "HUUNY'S SCRAP COMPUTER SERVICE." Then, in smaller letters
below the main sign, "YOU BREAK 'EM, WE TAKE 'EM"
    "How odd.", thought the Doctor.
    After making sure no-one else was inside, the Doctor stepped onto
the gangplank and entered the ship.  However, since the lights were off,
he didn't see much, so the next ten minutes of his life were spent in
search of a light switch.  After raising and lowering the gangplank
several times, the Doctor finally came across the correct button, and
pressed it.  The chamber he was in was flooded with bright white light,
revelaing intense squalor, the kind which is rarely encountered in
the civilized galaxy outside of frat houses. Clothes and paper were
strewn about the chamber, two padded chairs resting in the far corner
were covered with a mixture of food, sheets of plastic, and what
appeared to be dung, but what later turned out to be food that had
gone rather bad.  There were two doors, one to the Doctor's right, and
one to his left.  Understanding that, most likely, the control room
would be in the front of the ship, he chose the left one, and walked
through it.
    He had chosen correctly, and spread out before him, in all it's
splendor, was the control room.  Vast arrays of switches and buttons
filled his vision, and rows upon rows of CRT's hung ponderously above
his head.  To his left was a immense three-dimensional map of the
surrounding star cluster, and to his right was a huge mass of dials,
switches and plugs, evidencing that this was probably the communications
set.  The Doctor was amused.  He set down the ABPSAR, and sat in
one of the heavily padded command chairs.  However, after playing
happily with the switches and buttons for a few minutes, the Doctor
realized, somewhat belatedly, that the ship was devoid of power, and
that was the reason why the owner thereof has gone heading off into
the distance with the two cans.  Sighing with despair, the Doctor
arose from the seat, and bent down to pick up the ABPSAR. However,
something caught his eye.  It was a small cable, leading into a hatch.
The interesting part was, however, that the plug configuration was
remarkably like that of the Automatic Beet Peeler and Sub-Atomic
Re-Integrater which he carried, and with a few minor modifications...

    The Doctor set quickly to work.  He did not know if hooking up
this lone cable to his invention would do anything, but it couldn't
hurt, and it would use up some time.  He searched around the cockpit
and eventually found a pair of needle-nose pliers, and what appeared
to be a screwdriver.  After playing with it's buttons, and nearly
losing a finger or two, he realized that it was a a high-powered
torch. Just what he needed.
    Several hours later, the Doctor concluded that his job was done.
He had removed the panel to which the cable had been attached, done
some hasty and random re-wiring of the circuitry behind said panel,
and plugged the cable back into a hole had had made by burning away
a few pesky memory boards with his torch.  It was all ready for the
big test.  The Doctor went out into the messy room he had originally
entered into, and after a few minutes of searching, returned with a
hunk of slightly rotten food that strongly resembled Velveeta that
had gone past its prime.  After attaching this bit of foulness to
the appropriate clusters of electrodes in the ABPSAR, the Doctor
plugged the machine into his makeshift computer interface, adjusted
the intensity dial on his machine, and flicked the activate switch.


    The Doctor turned the dial up one more notch and flicked the
activate switch once again.

    Still nothing.

    "Shit.", said the Doctor. He cranked the intensity dial all the way
up to "10", adjusted the Inter-Nucleiic Flux setting to 9.4, and
once again flipped the on switch.  With a roar and the sound of
tearing metal, the ship began to move. Unsteadily at first, and growing
more and more erratic as time wore on, but still moving. The Doctor
jumped for joy, and quickly settled into the command chair.  He
reached for the controller stick, and pulled it all the way back, like
he had seen pilots do in old movies.  Luckily, the engineers of this
ship must also have watched those same movies, for the green ship
began to rise from the surface of the planet. Faster and faster it
rose, the clouds flew by the windows, and suddenly, through the
windows of the ship, the Doctor saw black. The utter night of Space.
A thousand pinpoints of light stared unwaveringly at him as the
ship cut quickly and silently through the depths of the interplanetary
Void.  The absolute peacefulness and beauty of the scene were not lost
on the good Doctor.
    "Hot shit.", he said.
    "Zoom.", said the ship as it sped away from the green planet below
and off into space.

Where will our friend the Doctor go?
Where will he not go?
Where will the previous owner of the ship go?
Where will *he* not go?
Will they be the same place?

To find the answers to some or all of the preceding questions, tune into
the next intensly exciting edition of SFSTORY CSNOTICE.

***** Entry appended 15:06 on Mon, 05/25/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 030 *****

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